I am in a spot of bother, as Toad says in Wind in the Willows, at some point. I am. I’m having to learn this whole quarantine thing all over again, as a single woman/mom, starting at week 78. all this food that I keep having to make, the weekends that I sit alone in my living room, the lonely lonely lonely. I fucking lost my shit because my kid threw a green bean at me. I almost cried. Laughing would have been way better. But I’m frazzled.
guys, I can’t handle tv anymore. its the most depressing and deeply sad thing ever. and yet, at 8 pm at night, there is nowhere else I can be, nothing I can concentrate on.
and I hate my phone. madly. and it never leaves my side. and I think I have carpal tunnel from it.
I went for a walk this morning, a short one, because I was going to do an online yoga class. its happening right now, i’m not doing it. its too much social pressure because they might see me, and i’m not fit, and they might see me.
yoga teachers are SOOO judgey.
i’m having microwave popcorn for breakfast.
I planted cucumbers this morning, and watered everything, and put the eggs out by the road for unsuspecting shoppers. Its 4 minutes before 9. did I mention that I took a walk? before 6 am? because I need to make this day longer?
I read an excellent book. And herein lies the GreenMan reference. And I’m not sure I have the werewithal to write it up with the sincerity it deserves.
Lanny, by Max Porter. Lanny is the little boy of an artist’s green dream. (I say). Weirdly charming, full of the world of mystery, magic and growth. witness to the beauty of the world. curious. birds eggs, northern lights, bowers, toad stools, charcoal smudges. illuminated.
and its about him. and you have to read to the end, because of what you hold dear, you have to.
as a friend said, notice what you value, and love that you love that. be consoled.
I love it too.
sigh. more hours to fill now.